


Toil and Trouble

by silverbird6



Series: Of Gods and Men [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Hazel Levesque is a witch, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), The Blip, The Westview Anomaly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 03:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30082521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverbird6/pseuds/silverbird6
Summary: The air was thick with magic, so similar to the Mist and yet much more...chaotic. It pulled at the strands of Hazel’s hair and clutched at her mind, trying to convince her she was Betsy, a member of the neighborhood women's club and was very interested in making sure the town talent show went off without a hitch. Hazel was more concerned with the way she seemed to lose time every once in a while and wake up in a strange house, usually cooking or cleaning or tending to the garden.After the events of Avengers Endgame, Hazel follows some unusual magic to the small town of Westview.
Series: Of Gods and Men [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213367
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Toil and Trouble

* * *

After the Blip, Hazel sometimes wished to go back to the idyllic, simple life of the 40s. Unfortunately, the universe took her request seriously.

Of all the things she'd begged and prayed for over the last five years, she couldn't believe that _this_ is what the Fates gave her.

Two weeks ago, she was running drills on the Field of Mars when the formerly-Blipped members of the Twelfth Legion and a six ton elephant appeared in the middle of their formation. Hazel's relief over suddenly seeing Frank again was quite literally trampled by the pandemonium of 60 very confused and heavily armed legionnaires.

Losing half the camp to the Blip had been catastrophic. Hazel would have thought that getting their friends and loved ones magically back would be nothing but a relief, but the camp had changed in the last five years, and the people inside it even more so.

They didn't have strictly two praetors anymore and had resorted to more of a blend of a demigod council and praetor system. They'd made some renovations in order to increase their capacity, increased their defensive capabilities, and rebuilt after the near complete destruction of the camp. The legion was harder and tougher. No one aged out, and everyone had to pull their weight, or they all died. But the individual structure was more relaxed, without a tiering system and with more lighthearted banter. A perfect blend of Greek and Roman, fit for the supposed apocalypse. The returned campers weren't sure where they fit in that equation, and honestly, Hazel wasn't sure either.

That was how she found herself directing campers out of the field hospital following a thorough check-up, briefing, and quasi-interrogation. Frank stood beside her, handing each camper a backpack with basic toiletries, a blanket, and a change of clothes if possible. He barely knew more than the rest of returned, but Hazel and Reyna had immediately pressed him into service along with the rest of the un-dusted seven. Leo was currently building temporary housing with Annabeth, Calypso was helping source additional supplies, and Piper was helping in the clinic. They weren't any less confused, but the seven were more used to the world crumbling beneath their feet than the average demigod.

Hazel couldn't stop herself from glancing at Frank every few seconds. She couldn't believe he was here, next to her, after five years of assuming the worst. She noticed him doing the same to her, presumably taking in the near-instantaneous change of his girlfriend from a teenager to an adult.

For Frank, a few hours ago his girlfriend was a shy, sixteen year old girl who was still intimidated by war games. Now, she was a 21 year old battle-hardened praetor witch. Her hair was longer and a bit lighter from hours working in the sun, she'd grown three inches, and she'd gained her fair share of muscle. A thin, puckered scar marred her neck and she still walked with a bit of a limp from the incident in the Underworld a few months ago.

Hazel was more mature now and was a leader of Camp Jupiter and the demigod community as a whole. She'd studied warfare, history, and even got part way through a degree in animal science at New Rome University. She'd taken five years to learn everything she could to be a great leader. But most importantly, she'd learned about her magic.

Hazel was no longer just a daughter of Pluto and Hero of Olympus. She was Hazel Levesque, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, Wielder of Dragonfang, Liaison to Kamar-Taj, and the Sorceress of Rome.

So two weeks later when she heard a wrenching scream and felt a crack in the fabric of reality, she didn't even hesitate.

The assembled demigods started as she swept into the Senate House, ignoring the orientation presentation running in the background (re-done by Coach Hedge for the occasion of the un-dusting). She'd forgone the toga, which not even Terminus attempted to enforce anymore, opting for an imperial-gold reinforced kevlar vest over a nondescript Berkely t-shirt. Dragonfang sat snugly between her shoulder blades, but she didn't carry any other weapons with her. She didn't need to anymore.

She caught Reyna's eye, who paused the presentation and pulled her to the side.

"I'm leaving. Something's up".

Reyna narrowed her eyes, "Do I need to shut the borders?"

It said something about their relationship that she didn't even question what the problem was. The council had to trust each other to know the things that could wait from the things that needed to be dealt with right now.

And this was something that needed to be dealt with right now.

Hazel shook her head, "No, this is in my purview. I'm headed to New Jersey. I'll call Nico if I need a hand".

Reyna gave her a firm hug, ignoring the whispers that broke out behind her, "Watch your back. Try to be back for the un-dusting celebration this weekend".

"I'll try my best" Hazel grinned, turning on her heels and striding toward the door. She paused by the front row, filled with the returned members of the Argo crew.

"Sorry to leave you guys so quickly" she tried to send them a reassuring smile, but they didn't seem convinced, "Duty calls. I'll be back soon".

Frank looked a bit confused, which was the new normal for the 60-odd demigods crammed into the Senate Hall. But he nodded supportively, "Be careful. We still have a lot to catch up on".

"Yes, we do," Hazel replied seriously. She didn't intend on losing Frank a second time.

Feeling a bit dramatic, Hazel didn't wait until she was outside to disappear. She walked towards the door into a shadow from the bleachers and faded into the fabric between the worlds. It was something between shadow travel and mist travel; even Nico couldn't quite quantify it. But to Hazel, it was as familiar as shrugging on a well-loved blanket. She let her magic guide her, following the shockwaves in reality to a small town in rural New Jersey.

Westview.

The shadows outright refused to transport her into the town, spitting her out prematurely on the road next to a large Welcome to Westview sign. Hazel stumbled and caught herself, troubled. She hadn't missed her mark shadow traveling for a long time. She didn't have to wonder for long though, gaping at the walls of sheer energy and magic pulsing around the idyllic town. It looked like no one was there, but Hazel could feel dozens of souls inside the town line.

She blinked a few times, but the mirage remained. So not the Mist. Probably not a demigod problem. A mortal one. Interesting.

Hazel could feel the copper electric lines running beneath her feet and followed them down under the town. The wire stopped at the barrier, which ran deep beneath the town. Drat. She was hoping for a way to get in without going through the mysterious barrier.

Hazel studied the wall for a moment longer, then lifted her hand to the energy field. Trailing her finger along the barrier, she pulled a bit of the magic away, then let it snap back. This wasn't her usual brand of magic. She wasn't quite sure what this was; some brand of chaos magic if she had to guess.

Mortal magic tended to be divided into four areas: order magic, dimensional magic, dark magic, and chaos magic. Hazel dabbled in order magic, and the mist could be considered chaos magic by some accounts, but she didn't limit herself to one order. The Mist was more malleable, more of a mix of elements. And because the Mist was part chaos magic, Hazel was able to slip in between the cracks in the barrier and into what appeared to be 1950s Americana.

Hazel stopped and stared for a moment, stunned by a world that looked remarkably similar to the world she'd left when she died. The fashions and fixtures were slightly more modern, but it was so similar it was painful. Except, everything was in black and white?

Hazel looked down at her outfit. What had once been a pair of well-worn jeans and her vest was now a checkered short sleeved dress that was cinched at the waist and billowed out to her shins. Her boots had been replaced with small, sensible heels, and she felt a large hat on her head. They weren't an illusion either. They were real.

When she'd wished to go back to simpler times, this isn't what she'd meant.

"What the Hades?" she muttered, blinking a few times. Hazel knew she was a fairly new player to the game, but this was something unlike anything she'd seen before.

The air was thick with magic, so similar to the Mist and yet much more...chaotic. It pulled at the strands of Hazel's hair and clutched at her mind, trying to convince her she was Betsy, a member of the neighborhood women's club and was very interested in making sure the town talent show went off without a hitch. Hazel was more concerned with the way she seemed to lose time every once in a while and wake up in a strange house, usually cooking or cleaning or tending to the garden.

She was walking down a perfectly straight residential street, taking in the 50s architecture and trying to follow a very faint trail of magic when she saw her.

Hazel recognized her from the television, and it was a miracle she did given how little she paid attention to the non-demigod news before the Blip. Wanda Maximoff. Her red hair was curled and in black and white, and her robotic husband rarely remembered to hide his face before he left the house for work. On the first day, Hazel tried to knock on their door to ask what on earth was going on. But the nosey neighbor, Agatha, got there before she could and after that, no one ever answered the door bell.

Her next opportunity arose when her alter ego was scheduled to attend some sort of ladies party to discuss the infernal talent show. But she arrived an hour too late and the only person remaining was a temperamental woman named Dottie who did nothing but complain about a broken glass and neighborhood riff-raff.

The more time Hazel (not Betsy, _Hazel Levesque,_ daughter of Hades) spent in Westview, the harder it was to determine what was going on. Her investigation would take one step forward and then three steps back, usually resulting in a loss of time and a costume change. The eras continued to fly past, until Hazel was wearing a chunky sweater, neon leggings, and her hair was barely restrained by some sort of fabric headband.

Enough was enough.

Hazel prayed to her father and Hecate, gathered the Mist, and in one fell swoop, burned the foggy influence out of her head. She ignored the resulting migraine and took stock. Her clothes unfortunately didn't change back to her vest and jeans, but she didn't have any desire to plan neighborhood parties or go by the name Betsy, so it was a vast improvement.

Hazel looked around her. She was in a one-story house, the one she always woke up in when she lost time. She knew her alter-ego, Betsy, was a housekeeper and nanny for a woman named Beverly. But she didn't remember ever seeing the children, and Beverly always seemed to be out helping Dottie with her newest scheme.

Hazel wasn't sure how much of this was real, but she didn't want to leave children alone if she didn't have to. Maybe they were napping?

A long hallway led towards the back of the house, and at the end were two bedrooms. Hazel cracked open one of the doors and readied a protection spell, just in case.

The room was small but contained a desk, a box of toys, and a metal bunk bed. Hazel stepped into the room, expecting the worst but not sensing anything overtly hostile. The computer and toys seemed to have changed erratically with the eras, a sock monkey mixed in the same box as Matchbox cars and a Game Boy.

A face out of the corner of her eyes startled her, and she threw up a shield instinctively, but nothing attacked her. Looking closer, she saw the face was actually someone sleeping in the bed.

A child, barely elementary age, laid sleeping fitfully under the comforter. Further inspection revealed a slightly older child in the top bunk, dead to the world as well. Hazel knew they were still alive and real; she could feel their bright souls burning underneath their blankets.

Hazel took down her shield spell and laid a hand over the younger child's chest. She was completely useless at mind magic, excepting the use of the Mist. The mind was a complex organ, and she was not nearly gifted or practiced enough to dig her hands in and start playing. However, she could read souls much easier, something that came naturally to her brother and was well within her range of abilities. The children were troubled, continually pulled into their own nightmares by some weird version of a stasis spell.

This magic, it wasn't an accident. Though Hazel's investigations were constantly thwarted and misdirected, that much was plain. Perhaps even the fact that she was misdirected was proof that there was an intelligence behind this anomaly.

But that left the question of motive, and suddenly Hazel realized just how far out of her depth she was. She was used to direct problems. There's a monster attacking New York, Hazel. Put it to sleep or put it down. Look at the crossroads, Hazel. What's the best path forward?

She was first and foremost a demigod, and therefore used to demigod problems. Granted, demigod problems were the thing of nightmares on a regular basis, but they tended to be formulaic. There's a bad guy rising again, this is what they did last time, we need to figure out their plan. Probably a few quests and a dozen setbacks and horrible pain and trauma, but in the end they always saved the day. This was different. This was mortal magic trapping an entire town in the past, for unknown gain by an unknown person with unknown powers.

Who was the creator? Why would they go through all the trouble and probably excruciating magical exhaustion just to play I Love Lucy? Why would the creator of this world send all the children to sleep? Did they not like children? Did children have some sort of inherent invulnerability to whatever was going on here?

Hazel needed answers. And there was only one place in this town to go for answers.

* * *

Everyone in Westview seemed to be beating to the tune of Wanda's drum. Hazel wasn't sure if she was aware of it or not, but the rest of the town just went into standby mode whenever Wanda wasn't around. But Wanda was a hard person to talk to.

Hazel had tried a dozen times to catch the Avenger at her house. But between the neighbor woman Agnes and what Hazel suspected was selective hearing, she never got past the front door. So that was out.

Wanda didn't leave the house much, but every morning she walked downtown and picked up donuts from the local baker. That was her opportunity.

Hazel hid around the corner from the bakery, ready to shadow travel as soon as Wanda approached. Hazel might not know much about what was going on here, but she certainly knew Wanda's reputation. If she was under some sort of spell, she'd fight back hard, no matter how nice Hazel was. So she'd have to strike first, and get her on her own and away from whoever was doing this.

Just like clockwork, the woman walked out of the bakers at 8am sharp, a bag in one hand and coffee in the other. Her hair was long and curly now, and she wore a plaid shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Hazel took a deep breath, drawing the Mist into her hands, and prepared to kidnap an Avenger.

"Hya toots!" A chipper voice was suddenly right next to her ear and the world swirled around her. Dark smoke billowed and suddenly she was standing in a basement, bearing a startling resemblance to the crossroads. Hazel turned around, amber seeping into her eyes.

"Woah! Don't shoot!" Agnes exclaimed, mockingly raising her hands. The neighbor flicked her fingers and a blast of purple energy hurtled toward Hazel.

Hazel calmly cast a shielding spell, only for her power to fail her. She twisted before the magic hit her, taking the hit to the back as her chin ricocheted off the floor.

Ouch. That hurt.

She could see purple markings flaring on the walls. Agnes stood smugly above her, "In a given space, only the witch who cast the runes can use her magic. You're powerless here sister."

"Not just the nosey neighbor then?" Hazel asked mildly, pushing herself to her feet and wiping blood off her face. Given the look of both the room and Agnes herself, the woman clearly was dabbling in magic from the dark dimension. And, yup, that was the Darkhold displayed behind her.

Hazel would say the witch was in over her head, but clearly she knew how to use the power she held.

"The name's Agatha Harkness. Lovely to meet you!" She chirped falsely, sidling closer to Hazel.

Hazel backed up, using a lifetime of footwork training in the legion to maneuver away from Agnes...Agatha.

"You too. You mind telling me what we're doing here?"

"Well, darling, you're being snoopy! And that's just not fair!" The woman pouted, eyes growing wide, "Because I got here first!"

"I'm not trying to interfere," Hazel said calmly, "I just want to fix this and go home".

"Fix it _?_ Hate to break it to you, toots, but I like it like this. And more importantly, _Wanda_ likes it". Agatha had finally dropped the false neighborly voice. She was snarling now, and this was something Hazel recognized well. Greed, and perhaps a hint of desperation to prove herself, "This is the single greatest concentration of chaos magic. Ever. And I think it might be spontaneous! You know what that means, sister".

Hazel paused, thinking. She'd learned a lot over five years, but her knowledge was limited to Ella's hoarded library and the teachings of a strange older man named Wong. She didn't exactly know everything, which she was getting a feeling this woman did.

"I don't, actually," Hazel frowned, trying to remain externally calm and collected. "I just know that the interdimensional wall is cracked. That's what I came to fix".

"Interesting" Agatha paused for a moment, considering. "You know, I almost believe you".

Hazel grimaced, "Look, I'm young. I'm not looking to make a name for myself. I'm assuming based on this lovely lair and your demeanor that you've been doing this for a while now".

A macabre grin spread slowly across Agatha's face. "Aww, are you looking for a mentor? Does the itty bitty witch want some more power?"

Hazel snorted. She couldn't help it. She had more powers than she knew what to do with some days, and a literal legion of friends and family that had her back. "Definitely not looking for a mentor".

"Good. I'm not looking to start a coven. I just want to help Wanda figure out what she's done here".

Hazel doubted that was her only motivation.

"Well then, it sounds like we want the same thing. I'll be going now. I have an investigation to finish".

"Do you now?" Agatha moved closer, and Hazel couldn't back up any more without trapping herself in a corner, "You think you can just waltz in here and bring down the Hex? You can't. I'm not even sure I could if I tried, and I have a _bit_ more juice than you, sweetheart".

"Power isn't everything" Hazel whispered.

Agatha looked downright wicked now, all teeth and corners, "You know what? I think you _should_ stay. You never know when you might need a bit extra juice".

That did not sound like a situation Hazel wanted to be a part of. Agatha clearly had more experience, knowledge, and power than she did. But she thought Hazel was just a fledgling witch too.

So she had the element of surprise.

Hazel wished separately for Dragonfang, who had disappeared when she entered the Hex. But an unarmed legionnaire wasn't a helpless legionnaire. Especially one that was the child of an elder god.

Hazel probed the area around her and couldn't help but chuckle. Agatha frowned, moving closer and grabbing Hazel by the chin, "What's so funny, little witch?"

"You shouldn't have decorated with so much metal" Hazel grinned, waving her hand for effect as she sent a candlestick careening towards Agatha's head.

Ah iron. It was always delightfully eager to answer her call. Hazel personally thought it might have an inferiority complex, since it wasn't generally considered a precious metal, but it certainly did the trick.

Not that she wanted Agatha to know there was someone wandering around who could control metals without using magic. Hence the hand waving. Hopefully she would be so obsessed with discovering how Hazel broke her runes that she wouldn't think of the very obvious answer: Hazel didn't need to use magic to kick some witch podex.

Agatha went down like a sack of potatoes, moaning as she felt the back of her head. That was Hazel's cue to go. But she was surrounded by doors, none looking any more promising than the last.

"When in doubt" Hazel muttered, and picked the door closest to her, careening through at a full sprint, ignoring Agatha's enraged cries behind her.

* * *

Through the door was, ironically, more doors.

She was at the crossroads, familiar mist billowing around her. Thousands upon thousands of doors stood at the ready, waiting to be chosen. This was Westview, the hub of so many different possibilities.

And in the center, Wanda.

Hazel realized she wasn't at her own crossroads. She was at Wanda's.

Hazel had only read about such things in the legion's records, vague references to beings in the Roman Empire chosen by Hecate, gifted in sorcery and a focus point for the crossroads of the worlds.

A nexus.

Hazel glanced behind her, reasonably certain Agatha wouldn't follow. Hecate had prepared both an escape and answers for her pupil. She sent a quick prayer of thanks and resolved to burn extra food at her next Camp Jupiter meal.

For now, she needed to investigate. This is where she would find the answers she sought.

Most of the doors at the crossroads were closed, some were ominous, and a few doors were open. One particular door was open just a crack, a tendril of dark green smoke trailing out from the inside. Hazel felt herself drawn closer and closer, until she could see a familiar humanoid with a squid-like head peering through, red hungry eyes looking out at her. Her heart stopped. This was much worse than she thought.

They'd faced a number of smaller threats during the years since the Blip, but this beast, this was the face that haunted their nightmares. The one they were never sure if they truly vanquished.

Hazel knew using her magic would be a grave mistake, but she couldn't let this monster infiltrate Westview and by extension, powerful vessels such as Wanda or Agatha. Instead, she kicked at the door aggressively, feeling great satisfaction as the door slammed shut, cutting the tendril off with a wail. She continued to stop on the fragment that had landed on her side of the door, breathing easier once the thing stopped wriggling. Her magic flew forward of its own accord, binding the door closed as best she could. It was like fixing a dam with duct tape, but it would hold. For now.

Reality stabilized, like a broken sword that had been reforged. The doors shrunk and disappeared until only ten remained, each with their own path. One of those doors was open, wreathed in purple flame. It wasn't the worst option left, but it wasn't the best. Hazel sighed and grabbed the smallest tendril of her magic, using it to douse the purple flame.

She gasped as the small amount of magic she'd released was sucked into the doorway with startling ease. The fire continued to flare, perhaps even burning stronger than before. Hazel stepped back, nursing her burned hand. It was like her magic had been drained from her, funneled to another source. She wouldn't be able to close this door; this was the road Wanda was determined to take.

Reality was stable, for now. She didn't think this path would cause it to shatter again. The townspeople, Wanda, and Agatha would all suffer greatly. But she also saw hope, rebuilding, and a promise to do better. However much she hated to leave the townspeople like this, she couldn't change the course of events without causing more harm than good, not at this point.

Hazel needed to get out of here. Not only did she not want to accidentally spill the demigod secret to a power hungry witch, but she had responsibilities (and a Frank) back at camp. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure she'd hopped into a pocket dimension to view the crossroads, and she couldn't shadow travel in a different dimension. She needed a gateway back to the real world. And the fiery open door seemed to be the only thing that fit the bill.

Just her luck.

Hazel took a deep breath, wreathed herself in the Mist like a heavy cloak, and jumped through the doorway. She could feel her Mist cloak being sucked dry, like a sponge filled with magic that was being wrung out. She could also see glimpses of what was happening in the path Wanda had chosen. She saw Wanda's false brother appear, her confrontations with Agatha, her past pain, and her decision to let her family go for the good of the town.

And then Hazel was spit back into the streets of Westview, this time looking like a post-Blip town with no red magic walls. The Hex was down.

"Why were you in my head?" A voice asked behind her. Hazel turned around and saw the Scarlet Witch standing in the middle of the street, red magic contained in the palm of her hand.

"My name's Hazel" she said slowly, careful not to make any threatening moves. "I wasn't in your mind. I was in the crossroads".

"The crossroads?" Wanda asked, not lowering her hand or her magic one inch. So it was going to be like that. Not that Hazel blamed her after the crazy week they'd all had.

Hazel sighed, "The place in reality where decisions are presented. I was viewing your crossroads Wanda, and attempting to guide you toward a less destructive course".

A flash of red obscured her vision. Hazel threw up a hasty shield, but Wanda's magic ripped right through it and sent her crashing to the ground.

"Ow!" Hazel exclaimed, pushing herself back up from the ground. She was going to have some major bruises later. "What was that for?"

"My decisions are my own, not yours" Wanda snarled, striding closer but not attacking again.

Hazel couldn't help it, and she fully blamed Percy for her lack of self-preservation. She laughed at the petulant witch standing in front of her, "Look, I know you've had a rough go of it. And normally I'd agree with you. But when you enslave an entire town and break reality, I think you forfeit some of your decision-making privileges".

Hazel closed her eyes, expecting the worst. She'd witnessed the might of the Scarlet Witch. She knew nothing she did could stand against her if she wanted to smite Hazel for her insolence. But Wanda surprised her. She deflated, dismissing her magic and knelt down to help Hazel stand up.

"I didn't mean to create this, you know" she said softly, "I just...I couldn't take it".

Hazel studied the witch. She didn't want to make her angry, but she wanted her to understand as well, "That's how a lot of people felt when the Blip happened" she began, carefully watching to see if she was going too far, "But no one had the raw power that you do. We can't create a fantasy land and bring our loved ones back. I understand why you did it, but you _hurt people_ Wanda. We're all grieving, one way or another".

"Was it really that painful?" Wanda's eyes were huge, and she clearly wanted to hear one answer. And it wasn't the one Hazel had for her.

"Yes, Wanda. It was confusing and painful. You should have let everyone go the instant you realized what was happening. But I can understand why you didn't. If you were wondering, there were much worse paths you could have chosen."

Wanda didn't look particularly comforted.

"What's next for you?" Hazel continued, not lingering on the berating part of this meet and greet. She valued her life a little bit, at least.

"I think...I'll get away for a while. Study, learn how to, well, not do this again" Wanda adjusted her costume, clearly not wanting to have this conversation.

"I think that's admirable," Hazel said, then hesitantly continued, "I've been where you are, you know. I've been used and lost control. And I also did the right thing in the end, even though the cost was high".

Wanda glanced up at her sharply, confusion setting in.

"I've learned a lot, the last few years, about loss and magic and grief and picking yourself back up. And friendship. If you need someone to talk to, feel free to call" Hazel summoned a piece of paper and a pen out of thin air and wrote her cell phone number in small, neat print.

Wanda hesitantly took the paper, staring at the phone number for a moment, then staring at Hazel in return. "Who are you?"

"A friend. Another witch, though I don't think my power is comparable to yours" Hazel admitted.

Wanda pocketed the note and started down the street. Then, she paused, and turned back towards Hazel, "Do you think I'm a hypocrite? For punishing Agnes and not myself?"

Hazel thought for a moment. Under the rules of Camp Jupiter, Wanda would be imprisoned and taken to the gods to potentially remove her power. But this wasn't Camp Jupiter; this whole situation was one big, mortal mess. "I think what you've sacrificed and what will come after the dust settles is a punishment in and of itself. Is it enough? Only you will be able to answer that question". Hazel considered, "In terms of Agnes, her punishment isn't kind, but I've seen much crueler".

She could see helicopters on the horizon, closing in on the newly restored town of Westview. "I think that's your cue. Good luck, Wanda".

"Nice to meet you, Hazel" Wanda gathered her chaos magic and launched herself over the town away from the approaching helicopters. Hazel stood and watched until the witch was nothing more than a vague red glow on the horizon.

Hazel smiled, and readied the shadows for transport back to Camp Jupiter. The world was a whole lot crazier than it used to be. Luckily for her, she had a whole legion of friends at her back.

The Sorceress of Rome melted into the shadows, smiling at the thought of Frank waiting for her back home. Perhaps she didn't want a simpler life after all.


End file.
